


Such a Beautiful Language

by willowoftheriver



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Backstroke of the West reference, Epic Fail, Fictional Languages, Languages and Linguistics, Linguistics, M/M, really nerdy in a very specific way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoftheriver/pseuds/willowoftheriver
Summary: Anakin attempts to learn the Naboo language. Unfortunately, it turns out it's some of the most complicated fuckery in the galaxy.





	Such a Beautiful Language

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Такой красивый язык](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20205628) by [fandom_SW_rare_pairings_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_SW_rare_pairings_2019/pseuds/fandom_SW_rare_pairings_2019)



To be honest, Anakin just wanted to learn some Naboo to show off.

That, and because whenever the Chancellor said anything in it, it got him really hot.

But by ‘learn’, he’d really just meant memorize some pre-constructed phrases by sound, ones that had a set meaning he could just know without really _knowing_ what all was going on there, grammatically speaking.

But the Chancellor—precious, darling man that he is—had been _so_ enthusiastic at the thought of him taking an interest in his native tongue that when he’d volunteered to give him formal lessons, Anakin just couldn’t say no. After all, the most powerful man in the galaxy was willing to take time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule to personally tutor _him_ , and that made something warm puff up his chest.

He already spoke Huttese and Basic, anyway. Yeah, he’d been raised speaking them both, but they said that once you knew more than one language, all the others just kind of came along naturally. How hard could it be?

“That’s a masculine word, Anakin, not neuter,” the Chancellor corrects him gently. Always so very, very gentle, nothing like Obi-Wan and his criticisms. “Eighth declension.”

Anakin is, currently, attempting to say two sentences. Neither of particularly long length.

“And since it’s a masculine noun of the eighth declension, it will take the definite article as a suffix.”

Anakin attempts to wrap his tongue around that, even though none of the syllables seem like they want to be anywhere near each other, and presses on with—in his opinion—valiant courage.

“Don’t forget the separable-prefix of the verb,” he interjects. “It goes at the . . .?”

He blinks at him. “. . . End?”

The Chancellor smiles a small, serene smile. “Correct. But, my dear, please keep in mind what form of ‘you’ you’re using—you’ve switched between three levels of formality and quite a few different plurals.”

Naboo has about fifty different words for _you_ , depending on things like the relationship between the speaker and who was being addressed—family? Someone’s senior? Someone’s junior? Someone you absolutely fucking hated?—and how many _yous_ you were talking to—one person, two people, all the way up to groups of five each got their own unique _you_ , while groups over that got one sad, general _you_.

Oh, and that wasn’t to mention the level of formality of the conversation.

Oh, those fucking levels of formality. They didn’t _just_ affect the you.

“I believe you’re meaning to use the plain passive negative ending of that verb, rather than the forth subjunctive,” Palpatine says, that kind, understanding smile never faltering. “They are very similar. But the forth subjunctive is only for—”

“Scientific hypothesizes that aren’t theories yet,” Anakin says grimly, nodding.

“And the fifth subjunctive . . .”

“Is for proven theories.” But apparently the Naboo still refuse to talk about them in an actual normal conversational way with normal verbs, because reasons.

“And since the verb you’re using takes a connective verb afterwards, you’ll naturally require an infinitive after that.”

“Naturally,” says Anakin. Really, he’s been juggling this sentence back and forth with the Chancellor for so long, he’s lost the ball somewhere, but he’s _trying_. Sith’s sake, is he _ever_ trying.

“Now ‘ _beauty_ ’—” The Chancellor says, clicking his tongue. “Your choice of word seems _slightly_ out of place.” He shuffles through some flimiplast charts on his desk, finally holding one aloft. It’s a flowchart, one of a truly astronomical number.

With an elegant, well-manicured finger, he points to the Aurebesh for the general word ‘beauty’ in Basic sitting there innocuously at the top. “Now, are you referring to the physical beauty of an object, person, or animal, are you referring to the beauty of some element of nature, or are you referring to the beauty of some intangible, philosophical, or emotional concept?”

“Person,” Anakin breathes, pained.

Palpatine’s finger follows the chart. “Male or female?”

“Male.”

“Adult or child?”

“A-adult, of course. I mean—” He gestures futilely at him.

“Is your intended meaning romantic, polite flattery, or backhanded condescension?”

“ _Romantic_.” Anakin squirms.

“But in the sense of handsome, distinguished, or—” Anakin’s not sure if he imagines the hint of distaste on the final word. “—cute? Or are you referring to beauty of character or ideals? Because either of those—”

“Distinguished!” Anakin declares. He’s never been more of sure of anything in his life, just so long as it’ll get Palpatine to put the flowchart down.

His delicately-filed nail taps the correct word, written there in Aurebesh beside its translations into the two Naboo alphabets, one of which looks like a bunch of ovals of slightly varying sizes.

“Being a feminine adjective of the first declension, it will take the definite article as a separate word beforehand, but remember that that changes because you’re using beauty in the genitive case, and adjectives and articles must always match what follows in case and number, except for—”

“ _Feminine_?” Anakin demands, once his brain catches up. He flails his hands at the flowchart. “But it’s for describing _men_ —”

“Indeed.” The Chancellor nods sagely. “Many words describing appearances are feminine. Except for the ones specifically applicable to water. And architecture. And animals over a certain weight—”

Anakin holds up a hand, desperate. “Okay. Okay. Uh, let me—let’s go on.” Except he barely gets the next two words out before he realizes his own mistake.

He meets the Chancellor’s eyes. “Counter,” he nearly whimpers.

“It’s okay, Anakin. I realize Basic doesn’t have them. Except perhaps the words ‘piece’ and ‘slice’.”

“But I just don’t understand why you have to use them for only one thing, too. And there’s so _many_ of them . . .”

Palpatine returns to his desk, discarding the flimsiplast into the flowchart pile in favor of pulling out an actual _paper book._ Emblazoned across the shaak leather cover in gold leaf is the title: _Dictionary of the Counters of the Naboo Language_.

Honestly, Anakin’s surprised he can lift it so easily. The Chancellor’s never struck him as a man with much physical strength.

After a second, he finds the page he wants, and points the correct counter out to him.

“And do mind your particles,” he adds. “Be sure to remember the difference between the one indicating motion from the speaker to the object, and the one indicating motion from the object towards the speaker. And the difference depending on the distance of the object to the speaker.”

“Uh-huh,” Anakin says. He’s never once wanted to actually _leave_ Palpatine’s office, before this point.

“And since I am _receiving_ the action, and I’m your elder, you have to add the . . .?”

“Prefix. The—the less formal one, because we’re having a casual conversation.”

He nods, seeming proud. It gives Anakin the strength to go on, and he finally, _finally_ stumbles to the end, coming to a full stop and beginning to exhale before he remembers to add on the separated part of that one verb from so much earlier on he barely remembers its meaning anymore.

The Chancellor’s doing a very mild, very genteel version of a wince, however. “Remember you use that specific add on we discussed when changing a verb into a noun. And that the verb must be in the infinitive form. Also, that final following verb would require the causative form, as I’m the one _allowing_ you. And mind your glottal stops and intonations, as they can change the meaning of a word.”

“Right,” he says weakly.

Palpatine tugs primly at the edge of his sleeve before making a gesture to go ahead. “You’re doing very good, Anakin. Do go on.”

And Anakin makes what he thinks is a very wise decision—to spit out his second sentence with such speed, all the words running together into one long, breathless, horrifically pronounced line, that the Chancellor can’t interject in every lull and turn it into ten agonizing minutes of gentle, so, so, _so_ gentle, corrections.

His teeth clack when he comes screeching to the finish, and he takes a deep breath, looking expectantly to the Chancellor.

His heart drops when he sees an honest-to-Force _smirk_ tugging at the edge of his mouth, flattening out briefly before bursting back with a vengeance.

“Why, Anakin,” he says, raising a hand to hover over his heart. “I never would’ve guessed this . . . passionate side of you. You truly want to know me at fuck?”

Anakin drops his face to his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Palpatine didn't give a shit about Anakin taking an interest in his native tongue. It was all just a scheme to push him that much further towards the Dark Side, with frustration.
> 
> This is based on some of the most complicated parts of, primarily, Japanese, German, and Latin that I know. There are other things, like past tenses (THREE FUCKING PAST TENSES, LATIN? NO WONDER ROME FELL.) but I think this mentions some particularly rough areas. And exaggerates them, in some places. It was cathartic.
> 
> You know how in the book about him, Plagueis tells Palpatine's dad that he speaks Naboo? Not in this universe he doesn't.
> 
> I adore that Backstroke of the West, the English-to Chinese-to English RotS translation that gave us Do Not Want, randomly starts shipping Palpatine and Anakin halfway through. It gives me life.
> 
> Anna


End file.
